saw this being debated and just wanted to talk about it too.
"is it rude if I politely ask a writer if they use ai or chatgpt on their works because I'm almost certain they do?"
yes, it is rude. no matter how polite you are being when you ask them this.
you say you are almost certain. so you are not absolutely certain.
unless you are absolutely, undoubtedly certain — with actual proof — that their writing is ai generated, never ever ask an artist if their work is ai generated.
I know several writers who would stop writing and delete all of their works if they were ever accused of using ai. so it doesn't matter if you are polite when you ask them this, you are suggesting that their works are ai generated, that they didn't create the works they could have spent hours, days, weeks, months or years working on.
ai and chatgpt are trained on real humans' works, they are trained to mimic the way real humans write. so if you say a genuine writer's work "looks ai", I'm gonna have to ask you what you think ai was trained on.
a writer whose English isn't their first language may also write in a way that "looks ai" to some, if they write in English and have to rely on translator.
using em dash isn't a sign of ai. I do it all the time. my fellow writers all love em dash.
having long paragraphs with "overly described scenes" isn't a sign of ai. I do it all the time, and so do my fellow writers.
all the "ai signs" are actually just what most writers actually do. they get mistaken for "ai signs" because sometimes the way writers write or describe a scene in a fanfic or an original work is different than the way people talk or text. because they're writing a fic and describing a scene, not chatting with a friend. the way I talk is different than the way I write my fics.
if you suspect a work was ai generated, but are not 100% sure, you can always just stop reading said work without saying anything.
if someone does use ai to write, they will either a.) deny and continue using ai to write or b.) admit because they see nothing wrong with it and continue using ai to write.
if a genuine writer was wrongly accused of using ai, they may stop writing altogether.
asking a writer if they use ai or chatgpt to write will always do more harm than good. witch hunting will always do more harm than good.
you are not "fighting against ai" by throwing around such accusations. you are harming genuine writers and artists.
(Saying that you basically gave me free use on you )
You will forget about this ask and go on with your silly little life.
Untill you start noticing how some things in your room are not in their place , hearing strange noises at night arround the house.
Some day you will wake up in the middle of the night and you find in the night stand a Polaroid of a hand touching your asleep face with "sweet dreams angel" written in the bottom.
Shocked you look at the picture but a screek breaks the silence, you turn arround and you see me standing next to the bed.
I throw myself on top of your body holding your limbs , you try to fight you way out but it's pointless , holding you head tight as I force my fat cock inside you.
Covering your mouth I come close to your ear as I whisper " I found you" .
I want a book where the couple are in a FWB relationship. The MMC says “we are not a couple. We can still see other people.” Then gets pissed and possessive when the MFC says the same thing.
He traced the delicate line of her jaw, his touch feather-light but heavy with unspoken power.
“I didn’t want it to come to this, but this is the only way.”
As the drug took hold, an unsettling numbness spread through her limbs, rendering her further into sleep.
He reached for her phone and used her fingerprint to unlock it. Scrolling through her app, he went to her fertility app. He had made a calculated guess, and he was right. Today was her peak day, ovulation day.
He had only one goal in his mind; to make her pregnant.
He kissed the inside of her thighs, then her stomach. “You look so peaceful. So beautiful.” he stared up at her sleeping form.
He unclasped the buckle and unsnapped his belt. Unzipping the front, he wasted no time in taking them off. His eyes lingered on the baggy white tee she had worn to sleep that was nothing to the imagination.
Pavel reached into his slacks, wrapped his fingers around his cock, swiping his thumb over the pre-cum gathering at his tip as he stood over her. With his hands he smeared them along the shaft to ease his first few pumps of his fist.
He climbed onto the bed, planting his face at the nook of her neck, inhaling her smell and muttering against her skin, “I missed you so much.”
Pavel leaned close and lightly kissed her earlobe as his hand sneaked underneath her shirt, grabbing a handful of her breasts. “This will be over soon. I need you to get pregnant.”
She made him this way. She owned him, and she had infiltrated every part of his brain. It was only natural. She would be his, and he would be hers. They belong to each other and he would prove it. He moved his hand from her breast to down between her legs.
A moan escaped his lips as he pushed his finger inside her. Wet. Maybe it was because she was ovulating, but the twisted part of him preferred the idea that even in this state, Lily’s body knows she belongs to him.
“Shhhhhh, just stay asleep. I am here. You are safe.”
He kissed every part of her face, her neck, her cheeks, and finally, her mouth. “I need this… I need you.”
He positioned himself between her legs, widening them further. One hand pressed into the pillows by her head while the other guided his cock.
He slid the tip in and felt how tight she was.
She was soaking wet, but he enjoyed the sight of her slowly taking him. A low groan escaped him. The sensation of her was heavenly, he found himself lost in the moment, unable to think of anything beyond the warmth of her body.
Any hint of regret had left his mind the second he was inside her.
“This is the only way for us to be together forever.”
Her eyes closed, and the tip of his cock caught on the hood of her clit, followed by a wet, tacky sound that made him gasp. It provoked a faint, nearly inaudible moan from her lips, which caused his body to tense up at the sound.
He couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. He didn’t care if somehow the drug wore off and she woke up. He would make her pregnant tonight and, if not tonight, then tomorrow or next, tomorrow or next month.
He impaled his entire cock inside of her.
“Fuck. You feel so good around my cock. I’m going to breed you, Lily. you are going to have my babies and they are going to have your eyes.”
He pulled her legs up and moved his hips closer to her. There was this primal urge to penetrate her deeper. He moved slowly, but he craved the depth and with each thrust, he made sure his pelvis pressed against her, barely an inch of his shaft visible from her pussy.
“If you saw yourself the way I see you, there would be no doubt about why I can’t let you go.” His hands raked through her exposed body, her breasts, her stomach, and he reached down where they merged, brushing over his cock as it penetrated her over and over.
Pavel was high and dizzy from the pleasure of having her in his arms again.
“Baby, I’m getting close. I’m going to cum in your pussy soon,” he said. “I’m going to fill your womb with my seed.” He grabbed her hips, pulling her pelvis close to his, so he could drive his thick cock deep in her womb and shoot his thick globs of cum directly into her cervix.
“We are so going to make beautiful babies,” he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.
He had half a mind to leave her with his cum dripping out of her, but he could not allow her to know about this… visit. Using his fingers, he shoved the ones that leaked out back inside her and buried his head between her legs.
His tongue plunged inside her, licking her up and down. Then he sealed his lips around her while he sucked on her clit. It may be counterproductive but the last thing he wanted for any to spill when she woke up in the morning.
Pavel squeezed both ass cheeks in his hands and continued massaging her pussy lips and clit with his mouth, licking off the excess.
Mason Pavel has resisted his attraction to Lily for years, the sister of his captain. After their secret affairs with strangers turn out to
“Huh?” she opened her eyes one right after the other.
He groaned, “I don’t like repeating myself. I asked if you are a fucking virgin?”
She cleared her throat. “Does it matter?”
He snickered. This girl didn’t know what she got herself into. He was not like any of her supposed boyfriends, who would shower her with kisses and whisper sweet nothing in her ear. For starters, he hated kissing. The mere idea of sharing saliva with someone gave him the ick. It might be counterintuitive, especially since he was considering his new doctor as a toy. The basis was that it required emotions and intimacy–something he was not interested in. For him, tonight was transactional.
She must have done this before, and he wouldn’t be taken in by her faux innocence. They all began the same way—acting pure—until they spotted an opportunity to make money.
“You are right. It doesn’t matter. I guess there is no need for me to go easy on you?”
Ana is down on her luck, with college debt and no job prospects.When she's offered a position as a physiotherapist for a famous hockey team,
Ana is down on her luck and in desperate need of a job to support her family. When she's offered a position as a physio...
It was nearly freezing outside, but the buildings were a haven of warmth. The street is covered in pavement to keep it clean of rain and snow. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. A sense of anticipation built inside her. She had no idea what to expect, but thankfully she had her bag with her. It was filled with every essential thing a physiotherapist might need when called unexpectedly at 11pm at night.
The elevator doors opened and Ana stepped out into a lavish lobby. The walls were painted a deep red, and the floor was covered in a plush carpet. The space was filled with sleek, modern furniture and tasteful works of art, and she noticed the twinkling lights of the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Without warning, a shrill scream filled the air and a half-naked woman flew out of one of the rooms, crashing down to the ground.
“I swear. I didn’t mean for it to go out like that,” the woman pleaded, but Ana’s heart stopped when Luka Kuznetsov pounced from the room wearing only a long robe and matching loose trousers.
“Fucking bitch.” Luka stood tall and imposing, his eyes bloodshot from rage, his face contorted with fury. “I told you privacy, but you go around talking.” He bellowed with rage and tossed her clothes at her.
“Fine.” she spat out. “Its not like i need you anyway, you are the one that can’t play shit if you don’t fuck.”
Those words seemed to send Luka off because he grabbed her by the neck, his teeth gritted. “You are just a whore and will always be just a whore.”
She let out a crackling laughter.
Ana froze at the horrid sight before her. Her mind struggled to make sense of what she had just seen. The images seared into her brain, but her thoughts couldn’t yet grasp their meaning. A tumble of emotions crashed over her - fear, revulsion, panic - leaving her battered in their wake. She had heard stories about Luka’s aggressiveness on the ice rink, but seeing him treat a person like this made her skin crawl.
“Get dressed and get out of my house. I don’t want to see your face here.” he tossed wads of cash on her.
“Fuck you.” The girl scrambled to put on her dress, fumbling with her dress in haste, and folded up the money in her hand.
Ana stepped aside, letting the woman pass, her eyes wide with shock at the drama she witnessed.
“Get out of here while you can. He is a fucking monster.”
Ana stared at the door as it slammed shut and swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. The woman had left for a while, but she could not stop replaying what she had walked into.
“Are you going to stand there all night?”
She flinched. Her hand turned white from gripping the strap of the medic bag too tightly.
Luka stood with a glass of some amber liquid, still in his robe, revealing his chest.
Ana followed him into the bedroom, trying not to stare at the surrounding mess.
It was clearly obvious what happened here. There were traces of it. A condom wrapper lying on the floor, a tube of lube was squeezed flat, clothes littered and a half-empty bottle of whiskey was perched precariously on an end table.
She couldn’t imagine he did all this the night before his game. She tried to focus on what she was called here for and ignore the sour stench of sweat and sex. It didn’t matter what her patients did in their private time. She was here to do a job.
“This place is a mess, but just come on in.”
“It’s okay. I will set up now.” She straightened a part of the bed and prepared her oils while Luka leaned against the mirror, his hands crossed against his chest.
Luka’s gaze never left her as she moved around the room, setting up things on the table. His eyes roamed from her slender neck, her hair was fixed into a bun, his gaze dropped to her jeans that hugged her ass perfectly. He bit his lips as his mind conjured the inviting image of himself slamming into her ass.
“Lie down, sir,” she said, finally turning to him.
Luka covered the gap between them in two long strides and leaned down to her.
“ I brought some oil, so maybe they could help you sleep tonight.” She said, the words came out like a stutter.
She was still nervous around him. He knew he had that effect on people and obviously enjoyed that.
“Aren’t you a bit curious about who that girl was?”
The question caught Ana off guard. She blinked, her mind scrambling as she tried to make sense of what had just been asked. “I have no right. To be honest, it’s not my business.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Contemplating. There was something off about her. He couldn’t place a finger on it. He didn’t have time to be picky right now. She would have to work for now. Besides, if she revealed his secret, he would destroy her. That part was certain.
“There are many players who have their… pre-game ritual they do before they go for a big match, something that makes them feel lucky if you do say so.”
“Ah. My father has some lucky socks.” She paused. “It doesn’t work though.”
Luka parted his mouth for a moment, then nodded. “Hmm… Well, mine is different. I need to have sex before I play. It doesn’t matter who the person is, as long as it’s mind blowing good sex.”
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She left to follow the directions to a penthouse apartment in the heart of the city.
It was nearly freezing outside, but the buildings were a haven of warmth. The street is covered in pavement to keep it clean of rain and snow. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. A sense of anticipation built inside her. She had no idea what to expect, but thankfully she had her bag with her. It was filled with every essential thing a physiotherapist might need when called unexpectedly at 11pm at night.
The elevator doors opened and Ana stepped out into a lavish lobby. The walls were painted a deep red, and the floor was covered in a plush carpet. The space was filled with sleek, modern furniture and tasteful works of art, and she noticed the twinkling lights of the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Without warning, a shrill scream filled the air and a half-naked woman flew out of one of the rooms, crashing down to the ground.
“I swear. I didn’t mean for it to go out like that,” the woman pleaded, but Ana’s heart stopped when Luka Kuznetsov pounced from the room wearing only a long robe and matching loose trousers.
“Fucking bitch.” Luka stood tall and imposing, his eyes bloodshot from rage, his face contorted with fury. “I told you privacy, but you go around talking.” He bellowed with rage and tossed her clothes at her.
“Fine.” she spat out. “Its not like i need you anyway, you are the one that can’t play shit if you don’t fuck.”
Those words seemed to send Luka off because he grabbed her by the neck, his teeth gritted. “You are just a whore and will always be just a whore.”
She let out a crackling laughter.
Ana froze at the horrid sight before her. Her mind struggled to make sense of what she had just seen. The images seared into her brain, but her thoughts couldn’t yet grasp their meaning. A tumble of emotions crashed over her - fear, revulsion, panic - leaving her battered in their wake. She had heard stories about Luka’s aggressiveness on the ice rink, but seeing him treat a person like this made her skin crawl.
“Get dressed and get out of my house. I don’t want to see your face here.” he tossed wads of cash on her.
“Fuck you.” The girl scrambled to put on her dress, fumbling with her dress in haste, and folded up the money in her hand.
Ana stepped aside, letting the woman pass, her eyes wide with shock at the drama she witnessed.
“Get out of here while you can. He is a fucking monster.”
Ana stared at the door as it slammed shut and swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. The woman had left for a while, but she could not stop replaying what she had walked into.
“Are you going to stand there all night?”
She flinched. Her hand turned white from gripping the strap of the medic bag too tightly.
Luka stood with a glass of some amber liquid, still in his robe, revealing his chest.
Ana followed him into the bedroom, trying not to stare at the surrounding mess.
It was clearly obvious what happened here. There were traces of it. A condom wrapper lying on the floor, a tube of lube was squeezed flat, clothes littered and a half-empty bottle of whiskey was perched precariously on an end table.
She couldn’t imagine he did all this the night before his game. She tried to focus on what she was called here for and ignore the sour stench of sweat and sex. It didn’t matter what her patients did in their private time. She was here to do a job.
“This place is a mess, but just come on in.”
“It’s okay. I will set up now.” She straightened a part of the bed and prepared her oils while Luka leaned against the mirror, his hands crossed against his chest.
Luka’s gaze never left her as she moved around the room, setting up things on the table. His eyes roamed from her slender neck, her hair was fixed into a bun, his gaze dropped to her jeans that hugged her ass perfectly. He bit his lips as his mind conjured the inviting image of himself slamming into her ass.
“Lie down, sir,” she said, finally turning to him.
Luka covered the gap between them in two long strides and leaned down to her.
“ I brought some oil, so maybe they could help you sleep tonight.” She said, the words came out like a stutter.
She was still nervous around him. He knew he had that effect on people and obviously enjoyed that.
“Aren’t you a bit curious about who that girl was?”
The question caught Ana off guard. She blinked, her mind scrambling as she tried to make sense of what had just been asked. “I have no right. To be honest, it’s not my business.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Contemplating. There was something off about her. He couldn’t place a finger on it. He didn’t have time to be picky right now. She would have to work for now. Besides, if she revealed his secret, he would destroy her. That part was certain.
“There are many players who have their… pre-game ritual they do before they go for a big match, something that makes them feel lucky if you do say so.”
“Ah. My father has some lucky socks.” She paused. “It doesn’t work though.”
Luka parted his mouth for a moment, then nodded. “Hmm… Well, mine is different. I need to have sex before I play. It doesn’t matter who the person is, as long as it’s mind blowing good sex.”
She blinked, a million things running through her mind as she waited for him to continue.
“The team has an upcoming game tomorrow. A lot is riding on it… a lot is riding on me. You see where I’m going with this?”
“Not sure if I say I do.”
“Why do you think I would call you here late at night when I just drove that girl out?”
Ana took a step back now, but her leg hit the bed. “I.. i... i just came to give your treatment, help with your pain and...”
He advanced on her with a feral gaze, closing the distance between them as she shrank away in fear. Her feet knocked against the bed, falling onto its soft mattress.
In the next second, her body was pinned beneath him. Luka’s face held an icy mask of determination as he leaned down, planting his elbow on either side of her body to take the weight off of her fragile frame.
She pushed herself from underneath him because he allowed her to. If he wanted, he would take her here and now with such ease. Luka knew if he wanted to use her as his toy tonight, he had to convince her in some ways.
“This is crazy, don’t you think so?” She said with a nervous chuckle.
Ana is down on her luck, with college debt and no job prospects.When she's offered a position as a physiotherapist for a famous hockey team,
The morning sun peeked over the horizon, casting a warm golden glow on the streets as Luka laced up his running shoes. His night had been anything but restful, filled with swirling emotions that had left him feeling both exhilarated and confused.
Read CONTENT WARNING ⚠️ from the story His Goodpuck Charm: A hockey romance by JulesxRae with 322 reads. sportromance...
When Luka was stressed, he would exercise, but that day had been a rest day from practice. The coach had warned them not to come to the training center, so he went for a run. He had been jogging for hours now, the rhythmic sound of his footsteps matching the beating of his restless heart
He ran through the familiar paths of the park, like a bolt from the blue, images of Ana's face flashed in his mind. The way she looked at him before he kissed her, the softness of her lips against his—everything about that moment replayed in his thoughts like a broken record. He tried to push those thoughts away, to compartmentalize them, but they kept creeping back, refusing to be ignored.
"Fuck. I shouldn't have kissed her," Luka muttered to himself, his breaths coming out in short gasps as he picked up his pace. "Don't think. Don't think. Don't think."
The truth was, Luka didn't know how to process what had happened between him and Ana. he did what he did best, push it down. Bury it. Run.
So he ran.
He ran to escape his thoughts, to keep himself busy, hoping that if he kept moving, he wouldn't have time to think about a woman he was literally paying for sex. The rhythmic pounding of his feet against the pavement provided a temporary distraction, a way to numb the confusion and uncertainty that swirled within him.
As he rounded a bend in the park, he felt his body protesting from the exertion. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. But he couldn't stop, not yet. With each step, he felt the tension in his body ease, and for a fleeting moment, the girl who had kept him up all night was pushed to the periphery of his thoughts.
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